


Valerian for Byleth

by Strawberry_Requiem



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Attempted Murder, Demons, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Female My Unit | Byleth, Murder Mystery, Succubi & Incubi, Succubus Byleth, dimitri fucks a demon, that's really what this is all a set up for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:14:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27303223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strawberry_Requiem/pseuds/Strawberry_Requiem
Summary: Lord Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd returns home following the passing of his father to take over the responsibility of running the estate. His days are soon occupied with helping square away the estate of the recently deceased Sir Jeralt Eisner. His nights while initially sleepless due to insomnia and nightmares, are soon spent being haunted by a beautiful and mysterious demon called Byleth.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 11
Kudos: 143





	Valerian for Byleth

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I never intended on this being 14k, but the story took on a mind of its own and developed into something else entirely. I was okay with Byleth coming into Dimitri's dreams and giving him a catholic guilt boner for FE3H Monster Fucking Weekend, but the story wanted otherwise. So, 14k, love story/murder mystery with demons. There is a bit of violence in the end, btw, but everything is resolved happily for the heroes, so it's okay.

The bouts of insomnia came more frequently in the passing weeks, especially since his father passed and he was named sole heir and Lord of Blaiddyd manor. He wasn't alone, not when he had visitors writing constantly to wish their condolences and offer half-hearted invitations to join him in Blaiddyd manor for a weekend. Besides that, he had the staff, whom he kept around because maintaining such a large estate as only one man was nigh impossible and a stepsister he could write if he wished for correspondence. He wasn't alone, but he _was_ lonely, which made the long nights when sleep evaded him that much more difficult to pull himself through. More often than not, he was visited by his father in his dreams. Not his father as he was in life, strong and gentle and kind, but how he imagined him in those last moments: with his vitality sapped and skin gray and sallow. These visions were nothing new to him, not when he had been seeing his mother's ghost, even though she passed when he was far too young to recall her. Still, it was enough for him to throw himself at tasks to keep his mind from it and to stave off the exhaustion that tugged at him. 

His days had been busy since his father’s passing, which made it easy to keep himself occupied. Early that morning, he was called to visit Sir Jeralt Eisner's estate by Lord Rodrigue Fraldarius. Dimitri only knew Sir Jeralt by reputation, but his father had made his acquaintance several times and spoke highly of him. So, when news of his death reached him, it was with some measure of sadness. Lord Fraldarius was tasked with settling Sir Jeralt's estate, given he had no known heirs or family to speak of, but there was a matter that he wished to have a second opinion on.

They sat in the small parlor overlooking a garden overgrown with Valerian flowers. Lord Rodrigue sat opposite him, with his son Felix between either of them. Dimitri hadn't seen him since his father's funeral, hadn't even received a letter. They had been so close as children, so the distance felt foreign to him. Still, he was grateful to have him present. 

"Under normal circumstances, the property would fall into the possession of the bank, and they would auction it off, but the issue is, police found Jeralt's journal when they were investigating for foul play and he made reference to a will within it." Rodrigue did not have the journal with him, Dimitri knew this. Yet, he was positive that he must have read it to, with the confidence he had to believe in the potential of this will. Lord Fraldarius was the one usually asked to oversee these matters, so it made sense that he above anyone would have been given access to the journal.

"That is quite an unusual situation. How are you to handle it?"

"My only choice is to find the will. I would hate to hand the deeds over to the bank, only to find out he had a long lost relative or child whom he never spoke of."

"Jeralt was a private man. I wouldn't put it past him." Agreed Felix. It was strange to see him agree with his father on anything, but given circumstances, it was hardly in anyone's best interest to argue for the sake of arguing. Especially when they were arguing over a dead man’s possessions.

"May I do a cursory look around the estate?" Dimitri asked as he removed his lambskin gloves and folded them neatly into his right palm. 

"Of course. I will be down here in the parlor when you are done."

Dimitri had never been to the Eisner estate before this meeting with Lord Fraldarius, but fortunately, the manor was much smaller than his own and easy to navigate. He was surprised to find the furnishings so spartan. Practical, he thought, though he supposed spartan and practical were words that could also describe the man. For a lifelong bachelor, he was surprised to find Jeralt had so many chairs, along with so many other things that implied the presence of multiple people. Perhaps Sir Jeralt entertained often. Or, perhaps he was clumsy and broke things often, much like himself.

Upstairs, he found a suite of bedrooms, along with two bathrooms. Jeralt's room was easy to find. There were clothes still slung over a worn armchair, a set of fishing galoshes by the wardrobe, long wilted valerian in a vase on the dresser. The oddest thing he found was a framed sketch of a woman and a young girl of about eight years sitting on the bedside table. The woman was beautiful with large eyes and a bright smile. The girl was near her double, though her expression was far more blank. Dimitri figured them to be mother and daughter and wondered if they were of any relation to Sir Jeralt. 

The other room that caught his attention was across the corridor from Sir Jeralt's. It appeared lived in, as far as he could tell. Surfaces were tidy and without the sheen of dust the areas that police had left untouched possessed. Fresh valerian was in a vase on the bedside table and folded laundry just waiting to be put away sat on the dresser. The bed was made, but it almost looked as if someone had lain on the sheets after making it. While in the room, he had the unmistakable feeling of being watched, but he chalked it up to how lived-in it felt in comparison to the rest of the house and chose to ignore how the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

After he was done, he headed back downstairs with Rodrigue and Felix. He was already in the coach when he reached into his pocket and found his gloves missing. Instead of returning to search for them, he decided to send one of the staff to buy a new pair in the morning. 

That night, he sat by the fire in his chambers with a book folded open in his lap. One of the hunting dogs–also inherited after his father's passing–sat at his feet, but he was far from comforted. Dimitri felt beyond exhausted after his trip to Sir Jeralt's home, lingering in a place where he no longer felt anything, which he supposed should have been comforting yet it only made him more worrisome. He had read the same passage in his book several times over by that point and was contemplating closing it and wandering the dark halls until sunrise and it was his time to be Lord Blaiddyd in proper, but something in the way the fire crackled just then caught his attention more than it ought to. His gaze flickered over to the fire, and curiously enough, found the flames growing with intensity. He looked to the log holder beside the hearth and saw that his stock of firewood was quite full. Not just quite full; the same set of logs that the servants had set out before he had retired to his chambers for the night. The logs within cracked again, causing him to linger over the fire again. The dog at his feet began to bark. Hackles were raised as it circled the room, though almost cautious in keeping a wide breadth between it and the fireplace.

Within, the fire swirled in a wholly otherworldly way until it took shape. First, it looked like dancing flames, but soon it separated into what appeared to be limbs, looking almost human in a way that caused him to shoot from his chair and grab for the poker. 

Then, just like that, the fire  _ stepped  _ out onto the rug. The fibers did not burn as he expected, but the flames grew until they were the size of a full-grown human, though still smaller than him. The shape grew more and more human until the flames extinguished completely, and before him stood a woman.

Dimitri held the poker up defensively, mind racing. His tongue was like sand in his mouth, so even if he wished to call for help, he doubted if he could. If he had, he was worried that he would find this was all a hallucination. She was horrifying and beautiful, or horrifying because she was beautiful. Besides her horns and slow, undulating tail, it was the eyes that struck him the most. The mossy green tone would have been enchanting on any other woman, but with the way her pupils cut through it like those of a cat, he found himself more unnerved than intrigued. 

"Who are you?" He asked, finally gaining control of his tongue. Dimitri had resolved to speak with his most commanding tone, but when he finally spoke, his voice cracked. He felt weakened with a stranger standing in his chambers, having somehow eluded the guard at the gate and made her way into his locked chamber. 

She did not speak, though she cocked her head to the side, forked tongue spilling out from between her lips as if to taste the air. Otherwise, she was impassive. Blank. It was like his words had no impact on her. Like she did not concern herself with the harm that the poker he clutched could do to her.

"Surely this is all a dream." Said Dimitri desperately. Searching for some logical way to explain this to himself. Behind him, the dog's barking had fallen to a pathetic whimper. 

"No dream." She replied, voice warm and husky as she took several steps toward him. Dimitri faltered and fell a step back when she outstretched her arm toward him. 

Dimitri took an offensive stance.

A torrent of ash filled the space she occupied, blinding him momentarily. The ash-filled his lungs and eyes. He doubled over in a coughing fit. Then, just as quick as it had come, it subsided. And with it, she was gone. 

* * *

  
  


Two nights passed since that visit from the strange horned woman and Dimitri had done all he could to convince himself that her presence had been nothing but a dream. The morning following the events, he scanned his chambers for any hint of the strange woman. A stray hair, a trap door in the manor that he was unaware existed.  _ Something _ . But other than ash on the rug, which could have easily gotten there when one of the servants cleaned it the last time, there was nothing. The lack of sleep only served to worsen his delirium throughout the day, so around 1, he sent for his physician so that he could be prescribed some laudanum. Dimitri spoke not a word of the strange woman, but he did ask if it was possible to hallucinate while under stress or from a lack of sleep. For no particular reason, of course, he assured. 

With the laudanum, Dimitri had a fitful night, but sleep came. Once, he dreamed of his father in his death bed. His sallow visage melted away to reveal the woman from the other night, though she met him with a curl of her finger as if to ask her to join her in his father’s bed. He woke in a cold sweat from that one and found it difficult to sleep again. There was something wholly terrifying about his dreams betraying him and the scriptures he was raised on for lustful images of that creature. He took the laudanum the second night as well, and likewise, was able to find some sleep, but not without nightmares of the horned woman who had visited him. 

The third night, Dimitri had thoroughly convinced himself that the woman was nothing but a delirious hallucination from a tired mind and chose not to take the laudanum. He was tired still; the fitful nights did nothing to restore his energy. Still, he was wary of becoming addicted to any substance, prescribed or no, and chose to stay up with a book until his eyes burned with exhaustion. 

He was just ready to put the book away and try at sleep when the fire crackled in that all too familiar way and the flames danced up into the shape of a horned woman. As alarmed as Dimitri was to see her, he did not grab for the poker again, though he did stumble to his feet and lumber behind his armchair to put some distance between her and him. His dog similarly had backed up to the bed and was growling in a low, desperate manner.

"You return," Dimitri stumbled over his words despite himself, "why?"

She looked to the dog briefly, the only expression she gave him was a twitch of her right brow. "You interest me."

Interest her? He didn't understand what she meant, but something about how she said it made him mad. Whether she was a hallucination or flesh and bone. It didn't matter; he read condescension in her words and that served to quash the fear that had bubbled up in his stomach and replaced it with anger.

Dimitri circled the chair, caution was thrown to the wind and gripped her shoulders roughly. Her skin was warm, warmer still than any human he knew, but he felt no pain. There was no fear on her face, nothing that caused it to change from that unreadable mask, and that only served to enrage him. His eyes narrowed when they met her overly large ones. "Why do you taunt me like this? Why?"

She said nothing.

"Answer me!"

And, like the first time he encountered her, she disappeared once more.

* * *

  
  


The laudanum no longer helped. It put him to sleep, sure enough, but his dreams were filled with visions of the green-haired demon, for that was what he decided she must be. A demon who hounded him and only him. Plagued his dreams, his sleepless nights, running through his waking thoughts. Dimitri hated her, and yet something inside him wanted to know why. Why beyond what she had said, that he _interested_ her, that she chose him. 

He spoke of her to no one, though he was careful to send his staff away at night if she appeared once again. At church, he pressed Father Cichol for details about demons, female demons who came to their victims and night. He claimed to have read a book about them and wished for any clarification. Father Cichol had called this sort of apparition a succubus, a type of demon not unlike an incubus that seduces humans. He said he didn’t believe they were real, more metaphor for the goddess’ teachings about adultery. They prayed over Dimitri’s nightmares, though, and Father Cichol offered his ear to Dimitri if ever another instance came when he needed it.

She came a week after the last visit, though this time, Dimitri was more annoyed than shocked. When he heard the popping of the fire and saw her shape step out onto the rug, he rubbed his temples and shut his book in exasperation. His dog hadn't risen from its spot at his feet, though it did bark threateningly at her. 

"Must you plague me so?" He asked, frustrated. 

"I only wish to observe." Her tone wasn't particularly defensive, though for some reason, he read that in her despite the blank face and even cadence. 

"Observe?" Dimitri didn't bother to mask the confusion in his voice. She did not sound like the seductress Father Cichol painted her as. Even more odd was her choice in clothing. She dressed in a style fairly popular at the time. Something told him demons didn’t follow modern fashion trends.

She nodded once. "My life is one of seclusion. I wish to know how others unlike me live."

"Why me? Why do you torment me with your wishes?" 

She was silent for a time. Her wide eyes searched the room, searched him, though for what, he didn't know. At his feet, the dog ceased barking, though it had taken to growling lowly at her. When she ceased her search, she settled her gaze back onto Dimitri. "I find you interesting. I mean no harm."

Dimitri pinched the bridge of his nose. "You will not stop coming until you get what you desire, will you?"

Her silence was all the answer he needed. 

"Fine, but do not interfere with my activities. And, if I decide to retire to bed, you must leave immediately."

She nodded once. 

* * *

  
  


Her visits were unnerving but expected. She appeared around half past midnight several times a week and stayed for one to two hours. For all he knew, she came more frequently, but the nights where she was unaccounted for were nights where he managed to sleep, though she still came in his dreams, with her playing the part of the terrible seductress to his budding enthusiasm. He hated them. Usually, she watched him read, or pace. Or polish the ceremonial weapons he received as part of his inheritance. She didn't speak. Not initially. She only stood there, unsettling and otherworldly. By the second week, he had a second armchair brought in from one of the unused parlors. If she was going to come no matter what, he could at least be a polite host and give her a place to sit. 

After a month of this strange routine, it struck Dimitri that he hadn't yet learned her name. The thought made him squirm under his skin; his etiquette instructor would be livid. So, when she appeared that night and took her seat as she had every night, Dimitri shut his book and turned to her.

"I am embarrassed to admit that I have not asked your name."

The demon's face shifted. Dimitri had never seen an expression like that on her face. Confusion, perhaps? Her fingers flexed on the armchair upholstery. "Byleth. My name is Byleth."

Byleth. It was an unusual name, but he supposed it suited an unusual woman. Byleth. He had to restrain himself from speaking her name to see how the syllables felt in his mouth. If they felt as strange and alien as she had. Or...or something else that he didn't understand. 

"I am Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Lord of Blaiddyd Manor."

He watched through his periphery while she practiced the words under her breath. He pretended as though he hadn't seen as much and opened his book once more.

"Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd Lord of Blaiddyd Manor, what is that you are reading?"

Something told him she was teasing him despite her dry tone, which gave him pause. "Dimitri will suffice."

"Dimitri." She repeated softly, though not without a raise of the brow that confirmed his previous suspicions.

"In any case, it's a book on some of Faerghus' historical battles."

Byleth nodded. "What is it called?"

Dimitri cleared his throat and turned the book on its side to double-check the text printed on the spine in gold leaflet. "Battles Throughout Time: A Comprehensive Look into Faerghus History."

She nodded a second time and fell silent. Dimitri took this lapse as time enough to begin his reading anew and opened the book once more. He flipped through several pages, looking for the page he left off on when she interrupted– 

"–Will you read it to me?"

"Read it to you?" He asked, wanting confirmation that he heard what he had.

"Yes. It's boring watching you read. At least if you read it aloud, I would have something to occupy me besides watching you scratch your nose, and clear your throat, and turn pages."

* * *

Dimitri had read to her that night. And on her following visit. And the one after that, even. When he noticed her leaning over her chair to get a better look at the pages one night, he moved it closer to his own the next morning. Dimitri hadn't known why; he didn't feel particularly like he owed her anything in the way of kindness when he was the one who was extending the kindness by letting her visit him. Yet, it felt improper to make her strain like that. He even picked some different books for her and kept them on the table beside his armchair in case she was tired of battles and wanted a change of pace. 

When she visited next, his dog did not bark. It grumbled a bit when she stepped by and took her place in the chair beside his and then laid its head down on the rug and uttered nothing else in regards to her. Dimitri watched while she did, while she made herself comfortable in her chair, tail folding around her knees in a manner reminiscent of a cat. He watched and waited to see if she noticed. It wasn't like he was keen on knowing if she was pleased by the closer proximity. Yet, when he cracked open a book on Faerghus legends and her lips cut into the faintest of smiles at the realization that she could see the printed words easily, his breath caught in his throat. 

"Your smile," he fumbled, "I don't think I've ever seen you smile before."

"Oh? I hadn't realized."

"Yes. It was…" charming was the word that came to mind, but he held his tongue on it "unexpected."

He started into the book but hardly made it one page when she interrupted him. 

"I know this book. My father used to read it to me."

"Do demons have fathers?" He asked, unsure if his question was uncouth, but given the late hour and the fact that she was not a typical houseguest, he saw no cause to hold his tongue. 

" _ I  _ have a father. I am unsure if other demons do."

Byleth's answer only raised more questions. Dimitri, however,  _ was  _ too polite to ask after them at the present moment. He shut the book once more, index finger pressed between the pages if she was still interested in hearing him read it despite her familiarity. 

"Shall we choose another, then?"

Byleth shook her head. "Could I read it to you? My father would read it in such a way and...I would like to read it as he did."

* * *

  
  


Dimitri hadn't expected Lord Gautier's visit. Or rather, he had read the letter and filed it away with his other papers in his study some weeks ago and it had slipped his mind. With his near-nightly visitor, he found himself more engrossed in entertaining her than typical guests. Even his dreams of her had shifted. In those dreams, they would embrace like lovers. He would kiss her over and again, much to her delight. And when he woke, it wasn't in the same horror he was accustomed to. So, when his butler found him in the morning room in the late morning, nose deep in his daily newspaper and tea steadily growing cold, he was taken aback, to say the least. Sylvain was hardly the sort to visit for an afternoon and find his way to one of the stylish hotels in the city, though he would be keen on inviting Dimitri to them for dinner one night. No, he would want to stay on the Blaiddyd estate, like he would when he was a boy. He would want to ride the horses kept in the stables through the countryside, reminisce about youth, inquire about Dimitri's romantic endeavors, or lack thereof. 

"Oh, yes. Of course." Dimitri cleared his throat and folded his newspaper neatly. "Could you please have a room made up for Lord Gautier?"

"Of course, Sir. Will you and Lord Gautier be taking your luncheon elsewhere?"

"I think not. That will be all. Thank you."

Dimitri headed down to the entrance hall to greet Sylvain and found him expectedly scrutinizing a painting of a landscape while he waited. He turned when he heard Dimitri's steps on the stairs and gave him a wide smile as he approached. "Dimitri, great to see you! Haven't seen you since...well, since the funeral. I'm sorry about your father." He clapped a hand on Dimitri's shoulder amiably when he was within reach.

"Sylvain, nice of you to visit. How are things back at home?" He ignored the comment about his father.

"Good. Good. I'll be taking over the manor soon, and I'm unsure if I'm ready to oversee its operation, but father isn't giving me any other option," he looked around the entrance hall, "will we be taking luncheon soon?"

"The staff sets it out in the morning room at one pm, but we can take a stroll through the gardens while we wait."

Sylvain hummed. "Maybe we should meet in the morning room instead? I'm quite tired and would like to rest."

They met for luncheon just as Sylvain had requested. The staff set out a cold soup appropriate for the summer heat, a salad of greens from the garden, and some cheese and bread. Dimitri found he lacked a proper appetite that afternoon, but Sylvain was ravenous. Between bites of food, he told stories of his time on his father's estate, of how he was encouraged to marry and marry soon, but he was otherwise unwilling to give up his bachelor life just yet. 

"You don't appear to be looking for a wife either." He said with a raised eyebrow as he tucked into another bite of bread. 

He couldn't fathom why, but his mind flickered to Byleth, to her cat-like eyes and that small twitch of a smile. He must have lingered on her for far longer than he thought and his silence had reached a point far beyond what would be deemed as polite as Sylvain was looking up from his soup with a queasy grin. "Too busy with a girl you keep hidden in your chambers to court a wife properly?"

"Goddess, no!" Dimitri's spoon clinked against his bowl in an undignified manner. 

"Relax, I'm only teasing."

After luncheon, they took two of the horses for a ride through the countryside. Dimitri hadn't realized it had been as long as it had since his last ride until the stablehand was shocked to see him and struggled with using his proper title as opposed to _young master_ as he was accustomed. He realized then that he likely hadn't been down to the stables since before his father passed, though he couldn't recall the exact details. 

They rode for close to two hours, then stopped at a lake to skip rocks and water the horses for a time. Dimitri's thighs were sore from the ride, given how out of practice he was, but he said nothing of it while Sylvain happily chatted away. 

Dinner had already been set out in the dining hall when they returned, and Sylvain saw no point in upholding traditions of decorum when it would only be them to the meal, so they ate in their riding clothes. After dinner, however, Dimitri longed for a bath and agreed to meet Sylvain in the first-floor parlor after. He scrubbed the smell of horse from himself until his skin was slightly pink and then dressed. 

Sylvain was having a cigar from the decorative box situated on the table when Dimitri stepped in. He offered one to Dimitri, who shook his head in refusal. He did, however, pour himself an after-dinner brandy, and one for Sylvain when he requested it. That was another thing Dimitri hadn't indulged in for some time, he realized as he held his glass to his lips. Perhaps he was finally starting to find his new normal after the months of merely existing. They played cards, chatted some more, talked of their childhood and all the fun they had in Blaiddyd Manor, or even in Fraldarius Manor, though Felix could not make it for the visit to share at the moment.

Dimitri hadn't the faintest idea of how much time had passed until the grandfather clock in the corridor chimed twice and he needed to check his pocket watch to confirm. When the face confirmed his suspicion, he gulped down the last dregs of his drink and thundered to his feet. Sylvain was several steps behind him, though much more confused. 

"Is everything alright?"

He turned to face him as he smoothed a hand over his hair, trying to regain composure. "Oh, uh...I am just rather tired and wish to retire to my chambers for the night. You may stay if you wish."

Dimitri did not stay around to receive Sylvain's response. He bolted up the stairs, clearing two at a time. All he could think of was finding Byleth there, Byleth waiting and disappointed because he  _ wasn't  _ there. Why he cared what she thought, he didn't know, but it resulted in a pang in his gut so powerful that it bordered on physical pain. When he reached his chamber door, he threw it open, a silent prayer to the goddess on his lips as he stepped inside.

Byleth sat in her chair, looking rather sullen. If just the thought of having forgotten their arrangement had brought him near pain, he was then tipped over the edge to see that expression upon her face. "I thought you had forgotten me." Her voice was small, though as even as he was accustomed.

What was he to say just then? Would an apology suffice? That he lost track of time because an old friend was visiting? Dimitri didn't owe her anything in the way of an explanation, she was neither his mother, governess, nor wife. And yet, he couldn't fight the nagging need to provide her with something, if only to heal her injured emotions.

"No words can convey how sorry I am for leaving you here like this." His tone was bold, though not authoritative. 

"I should go." She said simply, rising from her chair.

Dimitri attempted to stop her by advancing a step while he reached for one of the books. "No, please. We can read to each other. It is of no trouble."

"You need your rest. And besides, I could hear the voices while I waited. You have a guest whom you would probably prefer not to make my acquaintance."

* * *

  
  


Byleth did not come the following night, nor the one after that, either. Near a week went by and Dimitri found that he could not sleep yet again. Nightmares plagued him yet again, though instead of Byleth's face, whether demonic and twisted in sinful passion or something a bit less sacrilegious but still lustful, it was that sorrowful look she wore when they last departed. Even when he could not sleep as a result of insomnia, he found himself waiting in his chair with a book in his lap. Waiting for _her_ to appear in a blaze of fire to take her seat beside him and read together until he felt it time to attempt sleep once more. 

A week of this came and went. When the servants were commenting on his sallow complexion, he felt it time to call his physician.

Dr. Mercedes von Martritz was the best physician he knew, and this wasn't just because she was a friend of his. She had an even temperament, kind words, and a bedside manner that put most Fhirdiad physicians to shame. In short, he trusted her. Normally, he would have preferred making the trip to her office himself, but his staff feared his safety with him exhausted as he was, so he made the call and arranged for a house call.

She arrived just as afternoon tea was being set out, so Dimitri had invited her to the morning room while she conducted the examination.

"You say you haven't slept for a week, Lord Blaiddyd?" Mercedes' usage of his title caused his ears to burn most unpleasantly. 

"Please, just Dimitri. We went to university together, after all."

"Of course. My apologies." She sipped her tea delicately, then reached into her leather bag to pull out the necessary tools for the examination. 

"I have not. Between nightmares and my insomnia, I haven't been able to get more than an hour a night."

She nodded in understanding. "I could prescribe you more laudanum, but I fear you may become addicted. Perhaps we should attempt to find the root of your nightmares."

Dimitri looked into his untouched cup of tea, frown settled on his face. Before Byleth, his troubles with sleep involved the death of his father, the piling guilt of having not been home to prevent it, to be by his side in those last moments. But since her…

"...Mercedes, you are a pious woman, yes?"

"Yes. I was training to be a nun before I decided to go to university instead. Why do you ask?"

He sucked a breath in. "What do you know of demons? Are they completely goddessless creatures who are bent on evil? Or, do they feel things, can they strive for kindness and goodness as humans do?"

"What an interesting question," she hesitated a moment while she stirred her spoon through her tea, "certain sects believe demons are wholly evil creatures created by Nemesis to battle the goddess, but I do not believe that myself. I think everyone has the potential to decide their fate, to decide if they wish to be good or bad. So, I suppose I believe they have the potential to feel as we do as well."

"I...that is surprisingly secular of you."

Mercedes smiled. "Well, I've never met a demon, so I couldn't say for certain that this is true. Though I suppose if I did, I would have other questions I would want to ask first.

"Such as?"

"Oh, I don't know. If they preferred butter or jam on their toast.

In the end, Mercedes prescribed him a dose of laudanum. One of the staff had picked it up at the apothecary for him, though he left the bottle on the bedside table, untouched. Dimitri lacked the conviction to take a dose. Perhaps because he was still hoping to see Byleth that night. Still hoping for a chance to clear the air between them. She was a demon, at least, that was what he believed her to be. And yet…

...He was pacing the room at half-past midnight when she finally came. Seeing her in his chambers felt like a weight lifted off his chest. When he met her several months ago, he wouldn't have noticed anything in her expression. He spent enough time with her at that point to see her tells, to see the slight upturn of her eyebrows. The way she pressed her lips together when she thought he wasn't looking. Something had upset her. Dimitri assumed it must have been him and as he watched her face contort in something he could only read as sadness, as subtle as it was, made him realize just how much he missed her despite all sense or logic.

"Byleth." He said, conscious of his tone so that he did not sound too excited for her presence. 

"Dimitri." She mirrored. A step took her closer, but she hesitated.

Dimitri strode over to her, keeping enough distance between them so that she was never cornered. It was odd, how mere months ago, he would have wanted as much space between them. Now, well…" I owe you an apology. We...we have a standing arrangement, and I should have been more considerate of that. I hurt you in that."

Byleth shook her head. "You...owe me nothing. I overreacted."

"No. I should apologize. I...I  _ want  _ to apologize," he buried his face in hand and laughed a little, feeling a little silly, "and it has come to my attention that I know next to nothing about you, so I feel especially ashamed.

"What do you mean by that?" She cocked her head to the side. 

"I mean that we've been making each other's acquaintance for several months now, and I regretfully only know your name and that you have a father.

Byleth opened her mouth to speak, but something caused her to hesitate a moment. "I know very little about you as well."

"Perhaps we should remedy that." Dimitri took a seat in his armchair and gestured for her to do the same. Her tail brushed against his ankle; the contact caused his heart to leap into his throat. "How...do you take your toast?" He asked, remembering Mercedes' comment from their appointment. 

"Excuse me?

"Your toast. Do you eat it with jam or butter" he gave her a playful look, "or do demons not eat?"

Her smile made his heart beat faster. "With butter and honey. You?

"Jam. I have a preference for peach, but I will take whatever jam is on hand. It's your turn to ask me a question.

She held a finger to her lips while she thought, "What do you do when you have free time?"

"I have been quite busy as of recent, but I'm fond of horseback riding, fencing, and reading.

"My father would take me horseback riding on occasion. Though we had a lake on the property, so he most often took me fishing." 

Dimitri didn't know much about demons besides what he learned at mass. He hadn't thought they had fathers, and yet Byleth had said just as much. He also doubted if they lived in houses, went horseback riding, or had hobbies in general, but he saw nothing in her demeanor that told him she was lying. 

"My turn, yes?"

She nodded.

* * *

From that point, the books were abandoned for conversation. Byleth did not ask him questions he expected from a demon, though upon reconsideration, he didn't know what he expected from a demon at all. She asked about his family, the names of his friends. Where his family would go on holiday each summer. Questions he expected from an acquaintance trying at being a better friend, not a creature determined to claim his soul. Likewise, he learned more about her. Byleth was fond of cats, though she also liked dogs, horses, and other animals as well. She was skilled in geography and was surprisingly well-read. She loved flowers, particularly valerian; she wouldn't elaborate beyond that. He also learned she could play the piano, though she attempted to downplay it.

He asked her to play for him sometime, and despite his better judgment, invited her out of his private chambers so that she may play the long since forgotten piano in the music room. Byleth's playing was far from something he would pay to see in a music hall, but there was a quality to it that told him she was merely out of practice and would have been better over time and with more practice.

After that, he started taking her on tours of the manor. He would describe the parties it once held host to, of how he and his boyhood companions would slide down the banisters, much to the chagrin of his governesses, of holidays, and everyday life, and how he spent rainy days. The more he told her, the more Byleth seemed to come to life. She smiled more frequently. Her eyes sparkled like someone lit a match behind them. And her laugh, goddess, her laugh. 

The first time he heard it, she had expressed being hungry, so he brought her down to the kitchen to let her have her pick of the pantry. Byleth set herself down on a stool the cook kept for when she was peeling potatoes at the counter and helped herself to smoked ham, a crust of bread, some hard cheese, pickled cucumbers, and onions. Dimitri watched in amazement while she ate, seemingly never growing full no matter how much she had. She managed to get some on her face, yet was unaware of it until Dimitri could no longer contain his laughter at the bit of cheese on her cheek. When she realized it and joined him in laughing, Dimitri lost his breath. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. 

When the nightmares came–no, they were more proper dreams at that point–it was of making love with her. Of whispering words of love into her ear while they made love. Of kissing every part of her while she squirmed and moaned under his touch. Waking from these was torture because she was never there beside him when he did.

"Would you like to go for a walk tonight?" He asked of Byleth when she arrived that night. She was earlier than usual, but Dimitri saw no issue in that. Besides, the moon was full and he thought a stroll through the garden would be lovely.

"That sounds nice." She took several steps toward the door, but not before stopping to pet his dog on the head. It had demanded as much from her, as much as a pathetic whimper could be called demanding. 

"A moment, please. The nights are quite chilly. You should have a jacket," From the wardrobe, Dimitri pulled one of his jackets from its hanger and draped it over her shoulders, "there, wouldn't want you catching your death."

He led her through the garden, with the occasional glance thrown over his shoulder to see if anyone had witnessed them. His long coat mostly covered her tail, though its occasional swishing caused the back to flourish on occasion. Her horns, however, were a different matter entirely. The walk was calculated otherwise; he had wanted to show her something. 

They walked through the trellis and to a bit of garden that was less developed than the rest. The gardens had always been lustrous; the Blaiddyds who called the manor home before him had seen to that. Yet, Dimitri had other plans, despite how beautiful and familiar they were. So, he had the daisies pulled up.

"Valerian." Her cadence was even, though Dimitri could feel the excitement radiating off her as she approached the edge of the flower bed and knelt. 

"Your favorite, yes," Standing there, he watched her, a smile settled on his face, "they still need time before they're mature."

"Dimitri, I have no words." Byleth made her way to him, a smile on her face and an unmistakable sheen of tears threatening to spill over her waterline. She was no different than any other woman at that moment. Except to him, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. Byleth did something shocking then when she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

"I'm sorry," She fell back a step and cast her eyes elsewhere, "I shouldn't have done that."

To say Dimitri was shocked was an understatement. His tongue fumbled over words, both to dismiss her apologies and to tell her that he quite liked it, no matter how surprising, but he found himself unable. Byleth, in contrast, seemed so sullen by his inability and tucked a lock of pale hair behind her ear and began to turn away from him. 

"Byleth," he called, hand placed to her shoulder "may I...may I kiss you?"

She was quiet, brilliant eyes wide and glassy as if she may cry once more. When she pulled the jacket around her tighter, he assumed it to be a defensive gesture and was prepared to drop his request. But then, she nodded. His hands quivered when he placed them on her chin to tilt her face up to meet him. She was soft, softer than he ever imagined. Her scent was fragrant and warm; his head swam in it. Dimitri could be lost in her and he would want nothing but that. 

Byleth's eyes were closed when they separated like she was processing the sensation. Then, they slid open slowly. It was then that Dimitri saw it. The typical cat-like pupils were gone, leaving her eyes wholly human in appearance. "Your eyes…"

"Mm?"

"Nothing. Your eyes are beautiful in the moonlight. That's all."

* * *

He knew nothing about demons except what the church taught, Dimitri knew this. And it seemed Byleth knew little of what demons were like except she was somehow _not_ like one. All of this charmed him, and yet, he wanted, no, _needed_ to know if she was genuine and true, or if this was the ruse of a demon–like he was led to believe his entire life. 

The Sunday following their kiss, Dimitri lingered within the cathedral after mass, hoping to have a word with Father Cichol and glean some insight on the manner. But it was odd. A brother by the name of Aelfric had given the sermon. He had seen him around the cathedral but knew him only in name. Still, if he was trusted to give Father Cichol's sermon while he was away, he was probably the best option.

Brother Aelfric remained at the pulpit after much of the Sunday crowd had finished conversing and heading home, which was when Dimitri approached. "Excuse me, Brother Aelfric?"

"Hello, Lord Blaiddyd. Is something the matter?"

Dimitri shook his head. "Nothing like that. I have some questions regarding religion, and I was wondering if you could answer them for me."

"Of course. Allow me to return my things to my chamber, and we can speak then."

He agreed, naturally, and escorted Brother Aelfric to his chamber. Nothing about the room was particularly interesting to him, barring the vase of valerian that reminded him of Byleth and caused his breath to hitch. After, they decided to walk the cathedral grounds. 

"What questions did you have?"

"Regarding demons," Dimitri started, "the gospel teaches that they are wicked creatures sent by Nemesis, but surely that cannot be the case for all of them. There are many different types, yes?"

Brother Aelfric looked elsewhere, an expression that Dimitri was unfamiliar with crossed his face. "That is indeed what the gospel teaches, and I am inclined to believe that the goddess's own words are true. But you are right. There are many different sorts."

"Have you encountered any?"

A pause. "Once. A long time ago. There was a succubus who hounded me. She plagued my sleep, stalked my dreams. Even in my waking hours, I was consumed with her."

"What happened to this succubus?"

"I...wish not to speak ill of the dead, but...I had reason to believe Sir Jeralt was harboring her, as well as a juvenile succubus. I did what was expected of me as a holy man to rid myself of her grip, but I could not do the same for the juvenile succubus.”

"I...see. Thank you, Brother Aelfric. I should take my leave now."

"May the goddesses light shine on you."

Dimitri was contemplative the entire coach ride back to Blaiddyd Manor. What Brother Aelfric said was alarming, enough so that he had reason to reconsider his desire to see Byleth again that evening. To kiss her again. He needed answers, so when the driver came to the crossroads, Dimitri instructed him to head for the Fraldarius Estate as opposed to home.

Lord Rodrigue and Felix were still in the drive when Dimitri's carriage pulled up behind theirs. He saw no sign of Lady Fraldarius or Glenn, but he also hadn't seen her at mass and assumed she must have felt under the weather and stayed home for the day with Glenn to care for her. Ingrid was nearby as well. Lord Rodrigue appeared shocked, but not unpleasantly so when he saw the Blaiddyd carriage and stepped forward to receive Dimitri. Felix's eyes narrowed in contrast and he lingered back several feet. 

"Dimitri, what brings us the pleasure of your visit on this fine Sunday?" Asked Rodrigue as the coach helped Dimitri out. 

"Good afternoon, Rodrigue. Felix. Ingrid." he looked to Felix, who made no move to show that he observed the greeting, "I am sorry to trouble you, but I was hoping you would permit me access to the Eisner Estate, that is, assuming it hasn't been sold off to the bank already."

"It has not. We are still searching for the will."

Dimitri nodded. "May I search the property, then?"

"Felix and Ingrid were going out there this afternoon if you would like to join them."

"Splendid. Shall we take my coach?"

Felix was quiet for the bulk of the ride, which suited Dimitri fine enough. He normally preferred conversation, yet at the current, he couldn't help but feel his mind was wrapped in the mystery that was Byleth and how he was attempting to fit it into Jeralt Eisner's death. Ingrid, in stark contrast, asked Dimitri how he had been over the passing months. She hadn’t seen him since the funeral, though he hadn’t expected to with how busy she was planning hers and Glenn’s wedding.

He was quick out of the coach, though he needed to slow himself as Felix had the skeleton key to the property. "I will go search upstairs." Dimitri said, already halfway up the stairs.

"Take your time, we’re just meeting some gardeners here who are going to take care of the weeds."

Dimitri made a beeline for Sir Jeralt's chamber. Part of him expected to find the room in disarray, to find signs of a struggle, but it was exactly as he remembered it from his first visit. Galoshes still sat by the wardrobe, the wilted valerian was still in the vase. He threw open the wardrobe in the hopes of finding something, but all he found were clothes hanging from their hangers. The bedside table was his next target, but as he walked over, he found himself slowed to a stop mere inches from it. 

The framed drawing. He hadn't remembered it until that moment because he believed it to be completely unimportant at the time, but as he reached for it, he could scarcely breathe.

Staring at him from within the frame, the woman and child watched him as he traced his fingers along with the woman's hair, then the child's. She was the spitting image of her mother, and the mother looked almost exactly like Byleth. He thought of removing it from its frame, to see if there was any sort of signature or indication about who the mother and child were, but that was in poor taste; these were a dead man's possessions and to do so was disrespectful. Especially as he had a growing suspicion of who they were to Sir Jeralt. 

Even more nagging was the suspicion that they were someone to Brother Aelfric.

If only to be certain, Dimitri checked the other bedroom, the lived-in bedroom. It looked just as lived in as he remembered, and like in Sir Jeralt's, he instinctively went for the wardrobe. Women's clothing. But more than that, garments he had seen Byleth wear on her various visits. Echoes of her assailed him. He could see her, studying herself in the looking glass, tail swishing idly behind her. Or her curled up in the armchair with a book. Simple things, mundane things that she likely took for granted. Things that caused his pulse to quicken and a smile to creep across his face as he lingered on them. 

When he headed downstairs, head pounding, he heard movement in the kitchen. Dimitri's heart leaped into his throat, despite his better judgment telling him it was Felix. Except, he could see Felix through the window and see him conversing with several men. Any thoughts of self-preservation were abandoned when he mechanically headed toward the source, which he believed to be in the kitchen. 

"Byleth?"

"Oh! Lord Blaiddyd, I didn't expect to see you! I heard some movement upstairs and figured it to be a ghost. They wouldn’t come downstairs."

“Why wouldn’t a ghost come downstairs?” Dimitri asked.

“Because of the living room!”

Sir Alois Rangeld was standing in the kitchen, a crate of various foodstuffs settled on one of the counters, which he seemed to be regarding as a sort of shield. His eyes that were wide in terror previously squinted merrily in laughter for his own joke now. Still, there was a defensiveness about him that Dimitri most certainly noticed.

"Is something the matter, Alois? Besides the ghost?"

"No, I only thought the house would be empty.”

Dimitri glanced over the crate again, confirming what he assessed before: these were groceries. Groceries for the woman he suspected still lived in the empty house.

"You were close with Sir Jeralt, yes?" Dimitri asked. 

"I was, yes. He was something like a father to me. I still cannot believe what happened to him."

"So you were only stopping by on your way home from the shops to pay your respects?"

Alois said nothing, and that silence was the answer Dimitri needed. Sir Alois Rangeld was always a good man, always honorable and true. The secrecy and soberness he displayed here caught him off guard, but he saw no malice in him. That helped ease Dimitri's apprehensions about this situation, about Byleth, and how she fit into the other pieces. 

"Will you please answer me this: Sir Jeralt Eisner was not a lifelong bachelor, was he? He kept a wife and daughter from the public eye. A wife and daughter who were not human as we know it."

When Alois's eyes fell to the crate of groceries, Dimitri knew he had figured it out. Still, he felt sick to the stomach in knowing that he coerced an answer out of Alois when he was seemingly sworn to secrecy. To avoid further guilt, he placed a hand on his shoulder and affirmed, "I do not wish to drag yours or Sir Jeralt's names; I only wish to get to the bottom of this mystery."

"Come out to the garden with me. I wish to show you something."

Dimitri hadn't realized how thick with Valerian the garden had been until he stepped out with Alois. There was scarcely a walking path, though there was a distinct well-worn path that someone had made. His mind trailed to Byleth walking this path, of her picking the flowers and later pruning the excess in the kitchen to put in vases throughout the home. She was everywhere on the estate, making the fragments of her easier to find.

"Over here. This is Sitri." Alois led Dimitri to a stone marker in the ground. The valerian was so abundant that it couldn't be seen unless one were directly on it; he wondered if that was the intention. The stone marker said simply _Sitri Eisner_ with no birth or death dates, no _beloved wife and mother_. Besides that, it was immaculately cleaned and polished, and with a fresh bouquet of valerian placed on top of it. 

"Jeralt met her some years ago; my mind is foggy on the details of whether he and Sitri were already married when I met him, but in any case, he was like a father to me. She–Sitri, I mean–is...was...something not entirely human."

The way Alois danced around the phrasing brought images of Byleth to his memory. 

"But she was bright and warm, and Jeralt loved her dearly. They had a daughter too, who is so much like Sitri. Jeralt chose to maintain the public image of a lifelong bachelor to protect them, but someone found out about them and…" he trailed off, eyes cast on the simple plaque. 

"But, their daughter is still alive, so I do what I can to care for her."

Dimitri slipped his gloves off his hands and folded them neatly in his pocket to buy himself time to consider what line of questioning he wished to pursue. His mind was dizzy with the implications at hand. Stomach was queasy at the thought that someone may wish harm on Byleth the way they had her parents. He did his best to push her image from his mind for fear of giving himself away to Alois. Or, even more troubling, of being lost in her. 

"You are the one who has been pressing Lord Fraldarius to seek a will out, then?"

Alois nodded once. "Yes. The estate is rightfully hers, and Jeralt wouldn't have left her with nothing." 

* * *

For two hours leading up to Byleth's expected visit, Dimitri's stomach was up in knots. Questions circulated through his mind, questions that were best reserved for her as opposed to anyone else. Even worse was his growing suspicion that Sir Jeralt's death was as a result of someone wishing to harm her. He needed to speak with her, not only for answers but to keep her away from that place for a couple of hours to protect her. 

Because he finally understood that Byleth was someone important to him, and to see her harmed was enough to cause him immeasurable pain. 

She appeared in her typical manner and began to make her way to her typical spot until Dimitri told her how he wished to spend their evening, but she hesitated when she beheld him. "Is everything alright, Dimitri?"

"Yes–I mean...Byleth, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Your father, was his name Jeralt? Sir Jeralt Eisner?"

She paused. "Yes, but he was only ever my father to me."

When she confirmed this, Dimitri's blood turned to ice in his veins. It was as he suspected. Perhaps worse now that he did not have doubt to comfort himself with. His next question was far less kind, which only added to the discomfort. 

"Your parents...how did they…?" He couldn't bring himself to finish what he meant to say, but given the hard frown on her face and glassy eyes, she understood.

"A man came to the house. I was smaller when he came for Mother and I hid–my father had passages built into some of the walls to hide us. My father wasn't home when he came for Mother and...I...just remember her screaming."

"I apologize, Byleth. I shouldn't have asked." 

She shook her head as if to tell him it was fine, but the tears rising to her waterline told him otherwise and made him feel guilty for it. "Father was...some years later, and the man was some years older, but I recognized him from the glimpses I got the first time. My father told me to hide, and…" Byleth gulped down a breath of air and blinked back her tears. "I didn't leave my hiding spot until all the investigators had been gone for several hours." It was then that she began to cry. 

With no concern for whether it was polite to do so, Dimitri closed the gap between them with several large strides and pulled her in for an embrace. She was rigid in his arms at first, but it wasn't long before she melted into him. The sensation of it was pleasant, but there was a tinge of guilt in being the cause for her tears that colored it. Byleth was the sort who scarcely cried, so to be the one to cause it left a pang of hurt in his stomach.

"I didn't even get to go to my father's funeral." Her sobs were muffled in his shoulder.

Dimitri stroked her hair back to comfort her. "Byleth, I know this may be difficult to hear, but I believe that person may try to harm you as well. The house may not be safe for you."

"I have nowhere else to go," she said, a hint of defiance in her tone, "I only know two people besides my parents and you're one of them."

"Then stay with me." The words came flying from his mouth without restraint, though he probably would have made no motion to censor them anyway. 

"Dimitri, I can't. You're someone important. You can't just have someone...someone like me hiding in your chamber. Someone would find out and it would be ruinous for you."

"I don't care," his tone was raised, face hot, "if something happened to you and I had it in my power to prevent it, I would never forgive myself."

"Dimitri–"

"–Pardon my interruption, but I need to say this. I care about you, Byleth. Damn what the scriptures teach and what others would say if they knew. And not doing anything to protect you would surely be more ruinous to me than an unfavorable reputation."

Dimitri had only finished speaking when Byleth pressed her lips into his. She didn't linger long, only enough for him to understand the sentiment that she felt the same for him. When she pulled away, she grabbed one of his hands and pressed his palm into her cheek and closed her eyes, savoring the contact. When they opened, he noticed the shift again. Her eyes had been slitted and cat-like before, but now, with his hand on her, the pupils had gone into round human ones again. He didn't dwell over that, not when he crushed his body into hers and devoured her lips. Dimitri kissed her over and over, getting drunk off the feel of her claws digging into the back of his neck, her velvety tongue, which met his every chance it got, and her round hips that he couldn't help but hold against him. Her tail had encased them, keeping him in place. Not that he was going anywhere. 

When they separated, it was to a shared realization that they could not go back to the way things were before. The kiss in the garden had been the first hint of that, yet there was something more potent enveloping them both at that moment. Something he saw in her eyes when he could do nothing but stare into them and marvel at their beauty.

"Are you certain you want this?" her fingers tangled themselves in the hair at the base of his neck, betraying her words.

"Yes." To prove his resolve, he anchored his arms under her buttocks and lifted her off the ground and carried her toward the bed. "More than anything."

His hands shook as he lowered himself to his hands and knees atop her. Nervousness was catching up to him, but he did his best to remind himself that this was right.  _ She  _ was right. The dreams, the sleepless nights, the visits, everything, it all led to this. To her. As long as she was with him, he didn't know loneliness. 

It was hard not to watch as she began undoing the buttons of her blouse. His gaze was transfixed on her fingers, how the firelight glinted off her fingernails, which were more clawlike in contrast to the starched fabric. He hadn't realized how strange the image of her, with her horns and tail, wearing a blouse and wool walking skirt was until she was taking it off. 

But, he was distracting himself from his own task. He started undressing much the same as she, but he found that when he was working on the buttons of his shirt, she was hesitant. When she pulled her hands away from her garments and began peeling his away, his breath caught. Wherever her skin met his was like molten fire, and she was more than determined to touch him. Every couple of buttons, she would stop to slip her hands into his shirt. To _feel_ him. He could scarcely breathe when her fingertips danced along his chest. When was the last time someone touched him like that? Looked at him like that?

Before he had a chance to recall, Byleth's tail snaked along the underside of his buttocks and pressed him forward, cementing their point of contact. She gave him no chance to speak when she removed his shirt and wrapped her tail between his legs and ran the length of it up the front of his trousers simultaneously. Whatever words he would have said were lost in favor of a throaty groan of pleasure. 

Truly, he saw her as the succubus then, with her blouse undone just enough so that he could catch glimpses of the swell of her breasts when she shifted beneath him and her tail lazily stroking at his arousal from over his trousers. This was how she appeared in his dreams: seductive and spread out upon his sheets for him and only him to see like that. How he ever thought of her as horrifying instead of beautiful, he didn't know.

Her deft fingers slid down his chest until they were dancing along the waistband of his trousers. She looked to him for permission; he responded with a solitary nod. Within seconds, she had the laces undone and was pushing the fabric down until it bunched around his knees. His face grew hot as he knelt before her, exposed. Byleth's eyes lingered over him long enough for him to take notice and his face to burn even brighter.

Her face appeared impassive at a glance, but he could see those small things that went unnoticed. The flutter of her eyelashes, the way she nibbled at her bottom lip while she studied his body, her shallow and rapid breath. Dimitri could read her like a book; her arousal was plain as day. And he felt guilty for doing nothing to make her feel as good as she made him feel. He rid her of her clothes hastily, but with careful attention paid to touching her how he did in his dreams. Had she dreamed of him as well, he wondered, though that thought was fleeting. She was softer and warmer than he imagined. Her breasts yielded to his touch; her desperate inhale and flushed cheeks told him it was wanted. When he ran his hand up her thigh, she gripped the sheets and angled her hips to give him better access. 

"Dimitri…please…"

Byleth said  _ please _ , he could tell that what she meant was  _ don't make me wait _ . Her claws raked down his shoulder to the forearm. It stung but did not break the skin. The action made her words feel like a demand, but her eyes betrayed all of that. She was pleading. Needing. 

"Please…"

His response was tugging her underclothes off and lowering his hips enough for his erection to brush across her slickness. Her legs wrapped around his waist greedily, ebbing him forward. Dimitri leaned down to kiss her sweetly, then, he pressed forward, entering her.

Byleth sighed into his lips and nipped at his bottom lip. The groan that slithered from his lips as a result of her heat was only seconds behind hers. If her skin was hot, inside her was the sun itself. It threatened to consume him, but he welcomed it. 

Dimitri waited a moment, long enough to ensure her comfort and when he was certain, he started bucking his hips into hers. 

Her eyes never left his, which only heightened the experience. The dreams were nothing compared to that moment. To the beautiful shape her mouth formed when she moaned, thus giving him a sight of her ivory fangs. To how her claws felt on his back when she reflexively dug them in to cling closer to him. To how good it felt to feel her tail lash against his thighs or buttocks when he drove into the spot that was  _ just  _ right. He could lose himself forever in her and would be grateful for it.

But forever was not something he could realistically achieve. Byleth had finished first. Not a rapturous roar as one would expect from a demon, but a quivering moan that turned into his name halfway through. She tensed around him, nearly too snug for comfort. His body was moving on its own, though, driving him forward. Dimitri was mere moments behind her; the sound of his name said like that, breathy and on the edge of ecstasy, it forfeited any will he had to linger a bit longer.

When he released himself from her and collapsed into the bed beside her, a powerful wave of exhaustion overtook him. It was unlike anything he ever knew yet despite that, he fought it to the best of his ability. He wanted to stay up and accept those lazy kisses Byleth was giving him. He wanted to hold her. To tell her with words how much he cared about her. How much…

...He didn't know what time it was when he woke, but sunlight was streaming through the curtains. Dimitri rubbed his bleary eyes, the fog encompassing his memories of the night before burning away. Instantly, he rolled over in bed, fearing it was all another dream and he would be alone, but his hands made contact with a warm body beside him before his eyes had a chance to register anything. 

Byleth was beside him, curled onto her side under the bed covers. her horns were missing, however, and he didn't see the shape of her tail under the covers. Still, it was her. Real and with him. Changed and yet ever the same. 

Everything between them had changed, and yet he felt no shame or guilt. It was quite the opposite. Change like the one they experienced was welcome.

Dimitri leaned over and kissed her shoulder. He couldn't get enough of her, of touching and kissing her. Of merely being in her presence. When she started to stir and rolled over to look at him, he wondered if she felt the same. A small smile cut her face when she registered where she was and told him everything he needed to know. "Good morning."

"Good morning," he kissed her forehead, "did you sleep well?"

She nodded, but something about it caused the sleepiness to vanish from her face instead of confusion. Byleth grappled at the spot where her horns should have been then when she found nothing, reached around for her rear and found no tail. "They're gone." Her tone was barely above a whisper.

"I wanted to ask about that, but thought it to be rude."

"It's normal, I've just never done it. It...it takes prolonged physical contact with a human to do it. We kind of...drain their energy to fuel ourselves. I think my father used to willingly  _ give  _ my mother his energy when she needed it."

"Does it hurt the person you're drawing energy from?" Dimitri certainly didn't feel any different, other than having woken up from the best night's sleep he had in recent memory. Still, he wanted to be positive.

"I don't believe so. My father did it for my mother my entire life and he was strong as an ox until...well…" she cast her eyes down to the covers pooling in her lap, "did you mean what you said last night? About me staying here?"

"Absolutely. It would be safer for you here. Besides, I think I would like to have you here with me."

She smiled; his breath hitched at the sight.

"Shall we get cleaned up and have something to eat? Then we can go to your home and pick up your things to bring here?"

Dimitri quickly washed up and dressed. He drew a bath for Byleth himself; it was probably best not to alert the staff of her presence until after she was clean. Breakfast was brought to the morning room as always, though he took extra care to tell the staff that he had a visitor who would be joining him. They ate together. Byleth asked Dimitri questions about what living in the house would be like, but he didn't have an answer to give her. Her being there would change life in the manor. For the better, hopefully. 

Their coach ride to her home was a long one, though Byleth was pleasant company. Dimitri thought she was always beautiful: horns and tail or otherwise, she was enchanting. Though while she sat across from him with her hands folded in her lap, she looked far from the woman who stepped out of the fire that night he first met her. Something about her, with her hair pulled back in a style fashionable for ladies he knew reminded him of the will Lord Fraldarius was hoping to find.

"Byleth, I have to ask, did your father leave a will somewhere in your home?"

"He gave me some papers and one of his journals when he told me to hide that day. Told me to keep them safe. I haven't gone through any of them, though I think one may be a birth certificate.”

"Would you permit me to have a look at them when we arrive? There is some legal dispute about whether Jeralt–your father–left a will."

She nodded and resumed looking out the coach window. The jostling caused her fringe to move slightly, revealing a discoloration where her left horn should have been. He wondered if she had one for her right horn as well. And for her tail. 

When they arrived, Dimitri helped Byleth out. It was at that moment that he remembered that he hadn't any keys to enter and started to say as much when she reached into her skirt pocket and pulled a small iron keyring out of her pocket and unlocked it for them. Of course she had keys, he chastised himself. She had lived there her entire life and likely had to let herself out after Lord Fraldarius locked her in. 

Stepping in with her felt different than his previous visits. Part of Dimitri expected to see her parents: Jeralt engrossed in a newspaper after a day of fishing and Sitri with valerian that she was putting in every vase. He could even see young Byleth, following after her mother with a basket of flowers, or at her father's feet while he told her stories of the world beyond their property. They weren't there, just ghosts that he imagined. And from her grim expression, he could tell that she felt much the same.

"My things are upstairs." She said, managing to keep the upset out of her voice.

She grabbed a leather overnight bag from Jeralt's wardrobe before leading him to her room. There, she began piling in clothes, which she sorted through. Later, he would send to have all of her things brought to Blaiddyd Manor, but clothes and other necessities were the purpose of this visit. She opened the top drawer of her dresser and began pulling sets of underclothes from it to put in the bag when she hesitated, a smile cutting her face. Then, she pulled out a pair of lambskin gloves that Dimitri was all too familiar with.

"My gloves! Had I dropped them here?"

Byleth nodded. "I saw you the first time you visited and you dropped your gloves. I used them to track you to return them that first night we met."

"That was why you started visiting me? To return the gloves?"

Another nod. "To start. I thought you would be asleep and I could slip them on a table and you would think you misplaced them. But I became interested in you after. What was someone like you doing alone in such a big house?" She was fussing with the gloves now, passing them between her hands.

"Someone like me?" He took a step closer, gaze never leaving her.

She matched his step with one of hers, though her cheeks had gone considerably red. "Someone handsome. I've met very few people in my life, and you look how I always imagined the princes and heroes in my father's stories to look."

Dimitri had to take a moment to laugh to himself. He never thought himself to be particularly attractive, but something about her saying as much was charming. Still, he felt the need to tease her a little. "And you made up an excuse about wanting to observe me?" A wink told her he was only playing.

"I didn't know what to say. I felt I was beyond the point of apologizing for teleporting into your private chambers." 

His hand cupped her waist and he kissed her forehead. "I'm only teasing. Are you finished packing?"

"Almost. A couple more things, then the papers. I...would it be okay if I went to get the papers by myself? It's not a secret hiding spot if others know about it."

"Of course. Take as long as you need."

Byleth finished packing her clothes. After, she slipped into Jeralt's room and grabbed the framed drawing from the bedside table and dropped it into the bag. She pulled up a floorboard half concealed by the bed and dropped a cloth bundle that could easily fit into the palm of her hand into the bag. She went downstairs by herself, so Dimitri chose to linger on the second floor to give her privacy. 

He stepped back into her chamber and took in everything with what he then knew of her and couldn't fight the similarities between them. He was alone in a big house until she intruded upon him. And likewise, she had been alone until he had snooped into her private spaces. Loneliness ate at them both until circumstances drew them toward one another. Perhaps they could sense that in one another, which was why she was so persistent and why he didn't take further protective measures against her. Perhaps he was just as curious about her and wished to observe. 

It was quiet throughout the house while she was gone. At first, Dimitri regarded it as expected; she was downstairs retrieving something and he easily wrote it off. But when five minutes turned to ten and he heard nor saw nothing of her, Dimitri began to worry. A nagging at his gut told him to check on her, even if it made her upset for the invasion of privacy. He rationalized that it was far better than the alternatives. 

The stairs creaked with each step as he descended. Dimitri didn't know why, but his palms had gone sweaty. His heart sped up. The fine hairs at the back of his neck stood on end. Perhaps Sir Alois’s ghosts were real. At the landing, he saw it: the front door, wide open.

"Byleth? Are you okay?"

There was no answer.

Dimitri walked through the sitting room, the parlor, a drawing-room that appeared unused, but he saw no indication that she had been through any of these rooms. He had told himself that he would find some sort of assailant somewhere and grabbed for the candlestick off the mantle. It would be useless against a weapon of any capacity, but against someone unarmed, it was far better than nothing. 

"Byleth?"

Something crashed to the floor from the kitchen. Dimitri rushed to the kitchen without a second thought. His ears thundered with his heartbeat. Body moved on instinct. 

A crate of produce spilled onto the floor, littering the floor with several apples, tomatoes, and other vegetables. Cookware littered the floor and counter. That was what caused the sound. But the source…

Byleth was lying on the counter. A man stood over her, hands gripped around her throat. She writhed under his weight, trying to free herself. He was larger, though. Larger, and…

"Brother Aelfric, let her go!" Dimitri commanded, grip on the candlestick tightening. 

"She haunts your dreams, doesn't she?" His words came through a sneer and a tightening of his grip on her. "She has to die. She'll just continue to tempt you in your sleep and then choose someone else."

Under him, Byleth gasped helplessly. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her mouth gaped in the vain effort of forming words. She was flailing, hitting him to seemingly no effect. By the second, she grew paler.

Dimitri rushed Aelfric with the candlestick without thought. He struck once. Twice. Aelfric groaned from the blows, but his grip on her did not subside. He raised up for a third strike, but he saw Byleth manage to grab something from beside her and smash Aelfric over the head with it. Aelfric fell to the floor, unconscious. 

Byleth sputtered and coughed. The frying pan she got hold of clattered to the floor while she sat up, dazed. 

Only a passing glance was paid to Aelfric. Dimitri was more concerned with Byleth.

“Are you okay?” He cupped her face in both his hands.

She nodded. “I have the papers.”

“Let’s go to a neighbor’s house. We’ll contact law enforcement there.”

* * *

"I must apologize again for what happened those months ago." Father Cichol looked as prim as always. Clothes neat, green hair combed nicely. Dimitri struggled to imagine him as anything other than put together, even in his free time. He folded his hands together when he glanced over to Byleth, who instinctively touched her neck at the memory. "None of us knew that Brother Aelfric was the cause for Sir Jeralt's death, and had we known, more precautions would have been taken. I am only happy that no lasting harm befell you as well, Miss. Eisner."

"No apologies are necessary. My misfortune is not your responsibility."

Father Cichol nodded once. "Please, will you both join me in my office so we can discuss the plans for your upcoming wedding?"

Cichol's office was warm, but lacking in personality. He had a pair of bookshelves full, though the print was too small for Dimitri to differentiate between religious and secular texts. There was a painting of the goddess as well. Beautifully painted, but expected. Dimitri pulled the chair out for Byleth before taking his seat, which gave Father Cichol time to take his seat behind the desk.

"When was it that you were hoping to be wed?" He asked. A small leather-bound planner was pulled from a drawer and he flipped it open.

"In a month. The sixteenth or seventeenth would be best–my stepsister will be visiting then and we wouldn't need to invite her up a second time."

"The sixteenth could be arranged."

The rest was more scheduling talks. What time of day they wished to hold the wedding, what sort of scriptures and vows they wished to have during the ceremony. If they wanted something more traditional. Byleth sat beside him the entire time, nodding along and mostly silent except to offer her own opinions on the matter. 

It was still so bizarre to him. She lived in the estate as a guest until the issues regarding her parentage, inheritance, and the criminal trial against Brother Aelfric were settled. There was some issue of whether she planned on keeping or selling the home, yet after the resulting trial, she decided not to sell it. She had no intention of moving back in either. That was when she made her residence at Blaiddyd manor permanent. Dimitri loved having her there. Loved her more with every passing day. The day she told him that she loved him was one of the happiest of his life. She was a light that never snuffed out, and getting to see how she shone brighter the more he introduced her to facets of his life, the more he could no longer deny the obvious next step.

So, he asked her to marry him.

Even now when he looked at her, watching as she told Cichol how she wished to receive the guests and described the colors of her floral arrangements, he couldn't believe how far they had come. She removed her gloves and placed them on the desk, then, discreetly, she reached for Dimitri's hand. It was a game she enjoyed playing, telling him her energy was getting low and asking if she could have some of his. He came to quickly realize that she was only after his affection. Dimitri never said anything of it, though. He laced his fingers into hers; her lips curled into a private smile for a second and his heart was sent fluttering. 

"If everything is in order, we are done here." Father Cichol said, his ledger shut and slipped back into the desk drawer. He shut his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger as if chasing off a headache.

"Is everything alright, Father Cichol? Should we have one of the brothers or sisters fetch you some water?

Cichol shook his head and forced a smile. Then, when he opened his eyes, Dimitri was certain he saw cat-like pupils.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> As always, [you can find me on Twitter.](https://www.twitter.com/queenofthisdick)


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